Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-08-07
A BARGlE'S SWEETHEART.


was walking up one of the little gravel
paths that lead from the sweep of the
carriagc-drive between the square grass
plots 20 the patients visitors door, "
in the side of the long central corridor,
one blazing September afternoon. His
moloskln trousers and corduroy waist
coat. made with sleeves and faced with
daIk-brown vclvoteeu, open below the
top button, over blue guernsey, made
one at once feel sure that neither
horses nor boats wero totally unfa-
mIliar 10 him. And lastly, the seal
skin cap. which he took off and twirled
in his great hands as he reached the
door, would let any one who has ever
walked on the towing.path OF canal
into the secret Of his apparently double
occupation.
John Thrupp was n bargee, aud n
fine, strapplng Young fellow an easy
SIN feet in his blue worsted socks; deep
in the chest, and without an ounce OF
supcriluous fat anywhere.
II his brow was low, with the hair
iha: fell over it coarse and tan-colored.
il was broad and "stoOd upright, and
The eyes under it were good. honest
blue ones. The clean-shaved lips met
firmly over two rows OF strong. white
teeth. in a jaw heavy, hut not brutal.
No orc could call John Thrupp a lout,
If he was bargce; and though he
stopped little from the shoulders, il
wasn't the outcome of slouchy
nature in the man but simply
because he could. and did il necessary.
drag by rope over his shoulder
a heavy numbering barge that would
puzzle many an upright guarlsman to
STIR. So far from being lout, John
1hrupp had two. at least, OF the indis-
pcnsable attributes Of gentleman. He
was a man Of his word, and he had
love Of clcsnliness-inside and ont.
That he paid his way-if only along the
towing path OF a canal-and worked ms
hardas he had strength for, were, think,
two other very gcntlemanly habits
Int many folk may think that | am
cutie wrong about this, and as | want
only to tell you plain tale, we won't
go iltO 50 disputed subject any fur
ther Mind you, 1 do not believe that
IN hareees are honest or even cleau-I
don't, indeed; but this particular bar
gee was.
He loved his cold plunge in the
Breads at daylight. told the truth as
rvaIyingly, and enjoyed n clean shave
os kccnly rs any gentleman stroke in
Varsity eight.
Wclll This bargee turned a shade
palor, in spite Of his six feet and broad
shoulders, as he caught sight of the
rows Of white beds with the red-lack-
ct,d little forms in them in the wards
81 either side the path. He moistcned
ID, lis and swallowed little nervous
~ as he rung a bell beside the open
doorway that startled him by Changing
Just over bis head. a brisk voice sud A.:
Gone III; come straight on -; and
doing 80, John found himself. after
paelnc througha small receiving room
I'm Tie long slate-pavcd corridor, with
IFS fifty pale windows and double sets
Of GLASS doors opening into the long
maucbing pavilion warls. The CORR
G,r looked intorminabie, and the SHIFTS
Of sunlight, slanting through the high
windows on the right, seemed to cut its
great length into diagonal strips.
Two doctors, in loose jackets and
with bare heads, were standing at the
lar end talking but their voices did
not reach to where John stood, little
dazcd and ut loss how TO proceed
The same briskvoice, now close behind
HIN, remarked
"Well and paused.
John turned, and saw blue-gOwned,
white-aprOned figure, III a high white
cap. sitting on polished bench ag nnst
tie dark Withholding for all the world
like -and-white china tile set no
against dark oak shelf. The nurse
for il was nurse-or at least proba-
toner land not Il tle) had pencil and
book in her hands, and without looking
mp went on rapidly:
"Who to see? How many? Only
yourself? No infection of any sort at
home 1 hope whom did you say
elancing at last up at poor Johns puz-
lied face, with her pencil ready to put
a cross against the patient he should
ask for.
"A little girl; at least young girl,
said John. Nancy Battsen, adding
a little unsteadily, "she was hurt
here. touching his own broad chest.
hayward Ward-in the Special"
replied the nurse, getting up and
standing 10y John to point up the cor
ridor. "Go straight up to the statue
and turn into the glass doors to the
left. under the lantern in the roof. y
"Thank you. ma'am," said John.
going as directed, and then turned
hesitatingly to her and said: How IS
she, Miss, please? y
But the nurse did not know. She |
said she was lover on the other side, |
in Iicbert," but that the sister In Hay |
ward would tell him.
Poor john did not understand at all !
what she meant, but he thanked her |
and walked up the corridor as directed, |
lurclnng a little from side to side in his |
anxiety to prevent his great nailed |
boots making such an embarrassing
noise. -.
Like all who are accustomed to life
in hospital, John thought every
sound. even ont there in the corridor,
must wake some poor soul. He looked
nj the two trim nurses who passed HIM
higher up quite reproachfully for actu-
ally laughing and chattering so close
TO his poor little girl. who had been SO
nearly killed. A sickening expectation
and almost terror made Johns hands
cold and his eyes burn as he turned
into the first glass doors and found
himself in a shorter corridor, with linen
cupboards and bright little ward
kitchen on one side in front a long
vista of polished boards, rows OF beds
and white-covered table. The alter
noon sun streamed in and touched the
shining jugs aud glass jars and buncheS
Of flowers and the wbite-capped head
Of a nurse who was bending over the
nearest table, on which huge pewter
inkstand literally elistened, 1t had been
SO perseveringly FURNISHED.
The closed door on his left opened
and the Sister, tall, thin woman, IN
dark. green serge gown, and variation
Of the prevailing white cap on her white
hair. came out, saying to the unseen
occupant of the little eight-slded room
within. II don't think there is any one
coming TO see you, dear. 1t is nearly
4 when the visitors go-unless, she
said. facing John, "this IS your oro.